Slytherin and Hufflepuff don't mixor do they?
by EnamoredWithSherlolly
Summary: Prompt from tumblr: What's a Slytherin like Sherlock Holmes doing with a Hufflepuff like Molly Hooper? The student body will never know. Cross-over with Harry Potter.


**HP world won't be entirely accurate according to the timelines...**

* * *

"Why are you even with him?" Meena whispered at her friend, who was currently staring at the room, the quill in her hand idly twirling.

"Hmm?" Molly dragged her eyes away from the curly haired boy robed in black and green. "Oh, uh...I just..." she didn't know what to say. He was perfect? That was hardly accurate as he got into detention more than once for casting dangerous spells in class.

"Ms. Hooper!" A voice rumbled from the front of the room. Professor Quimble took slow, calculated steps toward the girl sitting near the back of the room. "Would you care to share with the class what Dark Arts you're talking about?" He gestured toward the rest of the students, some of whom were smirking at her.

Molly shot up out of her chair, cringing when it scraped against the wooden floors.

"I-"

"I'm sure that's none of your business, professor." No one saw the boy mutter the spell under his breath as a paper airplane suddenly sailed and hit the professor right in the back of his head.

He slowly turned around, his hazel eyes narrowing as they locked onto the Slytherin with the blue-green eyes standing up, staring at him defiantly.

"Mr. Holmes," he gritted out through his teeth. "Detention. Pickling rats' brains in the dungeons will be to your liking, no doubt. And 10 points from Slytherin."

The students around him groaned and glared at Sherlock vehemently. It wasn't the first time he got points taken, and for the _stupidest_ reasons. All for protecting that muggleborn. What made it worse was that his brother was the Minister for Magic, and he was horrifyingly adept at revenge, so they couldn't do anything about it.

After class, Molly sidled up to her savior.

"Thank you," she said softly, her robes barely grazing his as they walked side by side toward their next class: Divination.

"No need." He didn't even look at her, his eyes glued to his books. But not their textbooks, one he had stolen (err...appropriated) from the Restricted Section.

"Well...thank you nonetheless." She bit her lip, her heart heavy as they took the stairs up to the divination room. He always helped her whenever she was in trouble, giving her hope that he might like her, but no matter how hard she tried, he never really spoke to her otherwise. Despite what the rest of the student body thought, they most definitely weren't dating. She didn't try talking to him again the rest of the way.

As they took their seats, him sitting at the far end of the classroom as always, his head still buried in his book, she sat down next to another one of her Hufflepuff friends, Tom.

"Hi." He grinned at her as she plopped her books down on her desk, and she gave him a shy smile back. Suddenly, she felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck, and her head snapped up to see who might be watching her, but the dark haired boy at the other end of the classroom was reading, as always. Her eyes lowered, and she sighed.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Professor Trelawney entered the classroom. She had been here since as long as anyone could remember, and though she was extremely old, she continued to teach.

"Molly!" The old lady broke into a smile at the sight of her favorite pupil. Molly gave a small smile back, doing her best to ignore the not-so-hidden coughs of "teacher's pet" behind her back. She had made quick friends with the professor after chasing away several Slytherin boys who had been harassing her with conjured mice. It also helped that she had quite a knack for divination, despite the fact that nearly everyone else thought it was bogus.

"Today, I want you to look into your crystal balls. Concentrate on the swirling darkness within, and try to see an event from your future!" Professor Trelawney's shrill voice commanded, scaring awake some students who had already begun to doze off. They readjusted their positions, pretending to look into the crystal balls as their heads slowly drooped back onto their desks.

Molly paid close attention to the instructions, slowing her breathing and focusing all her attention on the black mist swirling inside the crystal, feeling a tiny incessant tug toward it. She could barely hear the professor's voice trilling out "yes! Yes! That's it!" as she suddenly found herself staring at a scene from what must have been the future.

She looked around the room, painted yellow with elephants and giraffes slowly travelling around and around in circles on the walls. A crib lay in the corner of the room, a dark haired baby sleeping soundly in it. A nursery.

Suddenly, the baby's eyes opened, his face scrunched up, and he opened his mouth to break out in an ear-piercing wail. Molly stumbled forward, her hands reaching out to try to pick him up and comfort him, when she froze. Blue-green eyes identical in color to those she was so familiar with. Black mop of hair. Button nose. Thin lips.

She shook her head. No. It had to just be her dream. It couldn't have happened, could it? She really...

The door burst open. Molly jumped, whirling around to face the intruder. She gasped as she saw a woman and a man hurry in, the woman still in her nightgown. She stumbled back a step.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know..."

Neither of them responded. She suddenly remembered. _Oh_, that's right. This was her future. Molly stared more closely at the woman, her hair in a bun, her brown eyes glittering as she picked up the baby and cooed at him. That was _her_. Older, but most definitely her.

Her attention then turned to the man standing beside the woman, and she felt her entire body warm up. The same curls. The same face, more angular and defined, but there was no mistaking the swirl of the special color of his eyes. Galaxy colored, she always thought.

Her eyes drifting to their matching rings, she felt a sudden sense of calm wash over her. She had done it. She had married her prince.

The ground beneath her feet shifted at her realization, and it took her a moment before she realized that the ground was actually literally shifting, blackening and rotating into a swirling mess.

She snapped out of it in a start, only to nearly shoot out of her chair in surprise upon seeing Professor Trelawney's face almost right up against hers.

"It must have been a good one." The old lady grinned, her eyes large behind her spectacles. What did you see?"

"Um, I...uh..."

"Don't tell me. Shhhh," she covered Molly's mouth. "It should remain a secret. Isn't good for others to know too much about the future." She scrambled over the desks, running out the door, cackling.

Molly blinked. That was strange. She looked around. Everyone had left. Oh.

She nearly jumped when she heard a voice behind her.

"Ready to go?"

She whipped around, her hand over her chest, only to relax when she saw who it was.

"Oh, Sherlock. It's you."

Then her heart sped up again, thumping against her chest as her cheeks reddened furiously. "Sherlock, it's you!" she squeaked, nearly knocking her book off her desk.

He stared at her strangely before his eyes lowered to his book again.

"Yes. You've already said that. Shall we go?" He stood up, navigating the desks and chairs without ever looking up. She followed behind, clutching her books tightly to her chest, her head down.

So she didn't expect him to suddenly stop.

"Ouch," she mumbled, rubbing her nose. She looked up to find his eyes on her. "What?" She touched her face subconsciously with her free hand. Did she have something on her face?

"What did you see?" he asked.

"Um..." her eyes wandered to the painting of the Fat Man hanging on the wall. He winked at her, then slowly meandered out of view.

"What did you see?" he repeated again.

"We were married," she blurted out. Her entire face felt hot.

"Oh." He said simply. "That's strange."

Her heart felt as if it had been stabbed.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, quickly stepping past him. She wouldn't let him see her cry. It wasn't _strange._ It was the future she thought she had. She supposed it had to have been wrong.

She felt a tug on her arm, and the books in her arms dropped onto the floor, the loud claps of the covers on stone echoing down the stairwell.

"That's not what I meant."

She shook her head slowly, her head still down. "It's okay. I just...I just hoped we could be friends."

"I don't have friends."

She bit her lip. She had expected as much from the boy who could do everything, but it still hurt all the same.

"But I do have a girlfriend."

Her head shot up, her mouth open in amazement. She stared in wonder at the boy whose face was now turned to the side, his cheeks slightly pink.

"Really?" Her voice came out breathy from excitement.

"I won't repeat myself."

Feeling impulsive, she leaned up on her tiptoes, pecking him on the cheek. His cheeks flushed even more.

"It's okay," she chirped. "I understand."

She took a step up, burying her face in his chest, breathing in his scent, clean and sharp.

He froze for a minute before his arms slowly wrapped around her, his heart thumping slowly and steadily.

The students of Hogwarts would never understand why a pure-blooded Slytherin like Sherlock Holmes ended up with a muggleborn Hufflepuff like Molly Hooper (and it was a bigger mystery to them why they ended up getting married almost immediately after they graduated)...but the little couple hugging on the stairs knew, and that was enough.


End file.
